


Crash and Burn

by idrilhadhafang



Series: Meme Responses [5]
Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:57:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atton and the Exile's relationship continues to evolve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Warm Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinofsimon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kinofsimon).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Written for kinofsimon on LiveJournal -- a bit of a sequel to merle's request. Based on #3 (a place beyond fear) and the scene where Atton teaches the Exile to play mental pazaak to keep others out of her mind. I always found it a bit of a sweet scene, especially Atton's line, "Because you'll be right with me, playing pazaak where no one can reach you." I thought that was actually quite lovely. :)

  
She didn't even notice him.  
  
And yet in a way, it was all right -- just playing pazaak with her, just calculating her moves whilst laughing and joking, away from Kreia's judgment, away from everyone else, was heaven. It was a private heaven they'd concocted for themselves -- away from war, away from fear and grief and despair. One spot of hope in this damn galaxy, this galaxy so godless and so thoughtless.  
  
When the game was finished, he turned to look at her. "So...what were you thinking about?"  
  
"Trying to beat you at pazaak." She grinned. "Would you say I'm getting better?"  
  
"A bit. You're good, but me? I'm magic."  
  
She chuckled. "If you say so, Atton." Then she grew more serious. "But really, what does pazaak have to do with -- "  
  
"Why I shield my mind? Back in Revan's army, it was pretty much a necessity. You don't exactly get that far in killing Jedi if you're a complete idiot."  
  
"I see."  
  
"In fact, I doubt you really get that far in _anything_ if you're a complete idiot. You have to...hone your skills, if you get what I mean."  
  
"I do." She seemed sad now, even distant -- even now, he wanted to reach across the table to her, comfort her. _It's all right. I'm here._ She never ceased to be completely unpredictable in her moods to him -- for all the crew (including him) saw her as strong, outgoing, brave, lively, she'd been all but broken when he'd first met her. Perhaps she didn't show it that often, but in a flash, one mentioning of Malachor, or Atris, or anything related to...what happened to her was enough to make that strong facade collapse. Sometimes he wondered how she kept breathing -- how she kept going. Perhaps it was because they didn't have room to collapse -- not in this day and age. If they slowed down, Sion and the others would find them. And they'd be dead.  
  
 _Just locate some place. Some warm, safe place, where Sion and the Sith will never find us..._  
  
But Atton knew it was next to impossible.  
  
"So that's why I play pazaak," Atton said. "They'll never suspect anything otherwise."  
  
"I see." Some life seemed to come back into her eyes -- a spark of her old self. "So...can you teach me? How to play pazaak?"  
  
"All right then. Close your eyes..."  
  
Even talking her through the steps was difficult -- occasionally, it would be broken by the two of them trying desperately not to break into hysterical laughter  
  
 _they weren't the most "professional" meditators, so to speak. around Kreia, the results...varied, to say the least, but around one another, they'd become so comfortable in one another's company  
  
 **a far cry from Peragus**  
  
that it was almost difficult not to crack up at times _  
  
much to Kreia's annoyance, but eventually, they nailed it.  
  
"So...how was it?"  
  
"It was..." Arawn grinned. "It was lovely, Atton. Honestly. I don't have the words."  
  
"Just keep that picture in your mind. If an enemy ever tries to breach your mind, keep that picture there. Because you'll be right there with me, playing pazaak, where they can't reach you."  
  
He doubted that he and Arawn would ever end up together  
  
 _after all, they were Jedi, and survival was their first priority_  
  
but at the very least, he could be there for her -- help her. Keep her safe. Atone for his own sins, while she atoned for hers.  
  
Because in the end, that was all he could do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another nightmare about Malachor, Arawn goes to the cockpit to talk with Atton -- if only because he's definitely one of the best options for company in times like these. What she discovers may be a crucial piece of information considering what Revan was actually after during the Mandalorian Wars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Based on prompt #8 this time, "lit like a burning city". Also trying to put together where exactly Revan went and what he was planning -- based on the information provided in KOTOR II. To say Revan's motivations are more than slightly confusing would be putting it mildly.

When Arawn awoke, she felt almost sick. It was another one of those nightmares -- about the soldiers on her ship looking towards her, awaiting her orders

_we're outnumbered, general, what do we do?_

about Bao-Dur, about Malak and Revan, about the Mass Shadow Generator stretching out, consuming everything while she fell to the deck, the screams of the dead and the dying ringing in her ears...

And that one word. The echoes of the dead and the dying -- amidst the echoes, there was that one word that stood out to her. _Ajasra..._

She doubted she could go to Kreia. Or even Visas for that matter -- she envied the way they were able to sleep tonight -- perhaps better than usual, considering what had happened regarding Dxun. Sighing in frustration, she walked up towards the cockpit, lit almost like the burning plains of Eres III --

_Stop it. Just stop it._

But even then, she couldn't get the images out of her mind.

There Atton sat, in the cockpit, muttering to himself -- _switch the face of the negative six card, total equals eighteen --_ He looked up as she took a seat to the right of him.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You look like hell."

"I couldn't sleep. Nightmares..."

"Malachor?"

She merely nodded. "They're getting worse. I keep hearing his voice -- _Revan's_ voice. And that word..."

" _Ajasra?_ " Atton asked.

"Yes." Arawn sighed. "Kreia said that Revan had a much larger plan in mind than the Mandalorian Wars. Even the Jedi Civil War. You mentioned something about Revan breaking Jedi -- do you have any idea of what he wanted?"

"I can't say, really. Until _she_ told me, I was pretty much kept in the dark. I thought it was straightforward self-defense against the Council that hadn't come to our aid, but...I guess I was wrong. I doubt anyone really knew what the hell Revan was after. Man was unpredictable."

"He was." Even remembering the Mandalorian Wars and Revan's increasingly obsessive behavior, Arawn shivered. Even seeing her dearest friend descend into madness was hard to watch -- not even Arren Kae could save him. _And to think he was using me -- that he_ knew _I'd possibly die at Malachor and sent me anyways..._ Even listening to Mical's findings was far from reassuring.

"Just talk to me about anything," Arawn said. "Anything besides Revan -- just to keep me sane."

Even talking about Dantooine and the Enclave would be better than nothing.


	3. A Pity And A Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atton muses some more on the Jedi Exile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Based on prompt 26 this time, "the structure of her nose alone".

.

She had a very interesting face -- roundish, almost elfish in appearance, with wide brown eyes, a strong nose and wide, expressive lips -- but that was far from the main reason he liked her. She was pretty, yes

_that couldn't be denied_

but it was more the little things that he liked about her. The rare times she smiled

_she had such a cold, almost icy beauty most of the time, distant, almost dreamlike, that seeing her smile lifted his spirits more than anything else_

and laughed, her integrity, her compassion, her devotion to every living being

_not just her crew_

and the fact that unlike most of the Jedi on Dantooine and Coruscant, she had gone, along with many of Revan's followers, to help the worlds devastated by the Mandalorians. The little people, one could say. The Jedi barely cared about the little people -- for all she regretted her actions in the wars, she barely realized how much good she'd truly done. He could still remember her, clinically recounting what Atris had said to her

_to think that Atris was willing to defy the Jedi Code to have her imprisoned or executed_

and a shiver ran through him. _How could Atris possibly think of her as evil? She's no more evil than the rest of us._

If there was one thing he could agree with Mical on, it was this: the Jedi were ridiculously sheltered. Imbeciles, even. If they weren't, they would have stepped in to serve the people that they swore to protect

_genuinely protect_

instead of blabbering about patience and caution and meditation and yadda yadda yadda...

Perhaps the Sith all but exterminating them was long overdue. At least, Jaq the Sith Assassin was certain of that. Atton, though...

Somehow, he wasn't sure.

The Jedi who had shown him the Force had, in the process, shown him that not all Jedi were as stupid and sheltered as he'd believed them to be. Arawn only validated it -- even watching her in action, for all he snarked about it, for all he gently ribbed her about it

_that damn "Jedi angel complex", as he'd called it_

he couldn't help but admire her. _Perhaps there's still good in this galaxy..._ He'd been so used to wandering the galaxy, dead inside but quietly unwilling to die, that somehow, he hadn't seen it. Perhaps the dark was generous, and patient, and it always won -- but they, the Ebon Hawk crew, could hold it back.

He had to hold back a smile at how cheesy it sounded. But even then, it was true. The old adage of love igniting the stars had made him chuckle back then, but even now, he couldn't help but wonder -- what if it was true?

Somehow, he didn't know.


	4. No More Than A Pawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the battle of Telos, the Exile and company recuperate. The Exile also finds time to talk with Atton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> For prompt 27 this time -- "all the words in all the languages of the world that ever were or will be". Also based on the cut content where Bao-Dur was to die in the Battle of Telos -- at the very least, exploring Arawn and company's reactions to it.

It was long after her conversation with Carth that Arawn finally took some time to speak with Atton. He was over in the right corner of the room, across from Canderous, trying desperately to fall asleep.

"You doing all right?" she said, gentle teasing in her voice.

Atton gave her a mock-pained look. "Carth's apartment is tiny," he said. "I don't know how he crammed that many of us in there."

"I don't think there's that many of us, you know."

Atton rolled his eyes. "If you say so," he said. "I don't believe it."

They both laughed. Then Atton grew more somber.

"You doing okay?" he said. "You look a little -- "

"I'm fine. It's just...Bao-Dur. I can't believe he's gone."

He reached out towards her, gently patted her shoulder. "His death wasn't in vain. And I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted you to give up hope either."

"You know from experience?"

Atton laughed, softer now. "Arawn...you don't know what it was like, after Malachor. I mean, I told you a few things, but I don't think I told you everything, if you get what I mean -- "

"No, I do. Really. Tell me."

"After what happened...I would have died there at Malachor if Revan hadn't rescued me. When I woke...I just completely lost it. Screamed some things at Revan I probably shouldn't have. Said he should have left me there to die. And he said..."

"What did he say?"

"He said he didn't leave me there to die because if he did...he'd be no different than the Jedi he fought against."

"I can imagine that." Revan had been good once, before he fell. A genuinely good person. Laughing, full of life and hope and belief, almost vulnerable in his compassion and desire to help.

"And after the Jedi told me the truth about Revan, I -- well, I left. I was basically -- I was already dead, but somehow, my mind hadn't caught up, so I was wandering the galaxy, trying to get killed in some sort of firefight or something. Eventually, I got to Peragus and there...well, I met you. I guess one could say you saved me, in a way."

"Atton..."

"You and Revan and everyone here...I think you guys are the only Jedi I know who aren't complete sheltered idiots. The Jedi keep going on about the Dark Side, but honestly? The only 'dark' people there are people like Atris." His voice grew darker now, angrier. "To think she condemned the Miraluka to death just because of a damn grudge she had against you..."

"That's just a handful."

"Maybe." Atton's manner softened a bit. "But enough about me...you seem pretty troubled as well. Are you all right?"

"Atton...on the RAVAGER..." Even telling him about Nihilus, about her and Visas removing his mask to find, in fact, _her_ face underneath it

_perhaps "it" was the best approximation for Nihilus she could manage, repugnant as it was_

how, during the confrontation, his voice had bored through her head: _frightened of your shadow...frightened of who you are, of what you are..._...somehow, even talking about it felt _good._ Atton, gently, placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't listen to him. Or Atris, for that matter. You're not bad. You could never be bad. You know this."

"Yes, but I can't say it's...easy."

"Whatever they say to you, I'll say the opposite. Show you how they're wrong. That way, any belief in what they say will die."

"I...maybe. Thank you, Atton."

"No problem."

And even sleeping by his side -- for the first time in weeks, somehow, she felt at peace. _Everything will soon be set right._

But even then, a remainder of Atris' voice, of Sion's, of Nihilus', whispered to her that somehow, in a galaxy where even planets could die, that even hope wouldn't be good enough for the trials ahead.


End file.
